


The Convention - Getting Dressed (Day 7: Cosplaying)

by drownedinblissfulconfusion (tundraeternal)



Series: The Convention [7]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Conventions, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tundraeternal/pseuds/drownedinblissfulconfusion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30-Day OTP Challenge</p>
<p>A succession of Cockles ficlets, set at a fictional convention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Convention - Getting Dressed (Day 7: Cosplaying)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plantainleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantainleaf/gifts).



> Note: I do not personally know any of the people I'm writing about. As far as I'm concerned, these are fictional characters in some alternate universe, which exists someplace between our own and the French Drop universe, who happen to bear superficial resemblance to our boys (and girls). Their conversations, personalities, and innermost thoughts are generally extrapolated from plausible reality, occasionally made up from whole cloth.

“Jensen, it’s a costume party. Traditionally, you’re supposed to wear a costume.” Misha’s standing in the door to Jensen’s room, with an ominous-looking duffel bag in hand, and an exasperated expression on his face. 

“Right, so I’m going as a really studly guy!” Jensen’s not sure why he’s so against dressing up for this. Maybe it’s just that he makes a living dressing up as other people, and tonight he’s in such a good place as himself, he doesn’t want to break that feeling. Anyway, he’s got on a nice pair of slacks and a dress shirt. He looks good! He looks like himself. 

“Well, stud, you’re contractually obligated to dress up. The good people downstairs paid hard-earned money to see you in a costume. You must have known that; you signed the contract. Didn’t you bring anything?”

Jensen mumbles something about ‘James Bond’ and ‘undercover’ as Misha pushes past him, walking straight into the bedroom and tossing the duffel onto the bed. 

“Anyway,” he defends himself to Misha’s back, “You’re not wearing a costume!” In fact, he’s still wearing Jensen’s shirt. 

“I’m not wearing a costume _yet_ ,” Misha says as he unzips the bag. “But I came prepared, and when I say prepared, I mean over-prepared. Lucky for you I did.” He pulls out a mustard yellow shirt.

“What, you want me to dress up as the 1960’s? That thing is seriously ugly, Misha.”

“Well, Captain, it’s what you’re wearing.” He lays the shirt on the bed, and puts a pair of black pants next to it. 

“Are those _bell bottoms_?” Suddenly it clicks and Jensen realizes what he’s looking at. “Oh for the love of-- No way I’m wearing that.”

“Now strip.” Misha’s advancing on him with a worryingly predatory look in his eye. Jensen backs away slowly.

“Nuh-uh. I didn’t sign up to be part of your weird Star Trek fantasies. I’ll put on a suit and tie and go as an FBI agent. I’ll put on a sheet and go as Plato. You’re not getting me into that outfit. Where did you even get that?” He lets out a small ‘oof’ as his back hits the wall. 

“Vicki bought it for me.”

“Of course Vicki bought it for you. I bet she bought a matching Spock one, right?”

“Actually, hers is a Fleet Admiral dress uniform. She outranks me. But I bought myself a Spock one. So tonight, Captain, I’m going to be your first mate.” Misha is right up against Jensen now, pressing him to the wall. 

“Jesus, Misha, stop calling me Captain.” Jensen’s torn between embarrassment and arousal.

“Is that an order, sir?” Misha whispers hot into his ear and hitches his leg so that his hip brushes Jensen’s crotch. Arousal wins. 

“Fuck, call me whatever you want.” Jensen fists a hand in Misha’s hair and brings their mouths together. 

Mindful of the urgency, Jensen pulls the henley over Misha’s head and tosses it towards his suitcase, as Misha deftly unbuttons Jensen. Shirts removed, Misha’s hands are quick at the buckle of Jensen’s trousers, and Jensen returns the favor. Jensen groans as Misha palms his cock through his briefs; he feels himself growing hard under Misha’s touch. Before Jensen can get his hands into Misha’s boxers, though, Misha’s moving away, back towards the bed. He takes out another shirt, blue this time, and pulls it over his head. 

“Damn, I should have expected you’d be a tease.” Jensen is still panting, rock-hard and standing in his underwear, and here’s Misha calmly putting on clothes.

Misha turns back to him. “Well, I could suck you off right now. Fast and dirty. But think how much better it’ll be tonight if we get to spend the next three hours savoring the anticipation.” Misha finishes zipping his trousers and hands Jensen the ugly yellow shirt, expression inscrutable. 

Jensen pulls it on, and sidles up to Misha, rubbing a hand over the curve of his ass. Jensen’s got to admit, Misha looks damn good in those tight black pants. 

“Alright, Mr. Spock, this is a direct order. We are coming back to my room the second this party is over, and we are going to get very naked, very fast.” 

“Aye aye, Captain.” Misha smirks. “Now excuse me for a minute while I go put on my ears.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Lis for inspiring the idea of the boys as Kirk and Spock. Yum, space husbands!


End file.
